


Bite me, then.

by DeadDrabble (MisakillDatMonkey)



Series: Until your lips taste like mine. [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Atsumu self-doubts a lot, Blow Jobs, Canon Universe, Character Study, Consent, Kiyoomi Denial Sakusa, Lollipops, M/M, Oblivious, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, POV Miya Atsumu, Pining, Post-Time Skip, Pre-Olympics, Public Blow Jobs, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Tension, Sloppy Makeouts, Trust Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:08:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27216931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisakillDatMonkey/pseuds/DeadDrabble
Summary: There goes the last shreds of menacing aura, any remaining bits of his sex appeal…It's clearly infuriating, because if they got there in the first place, it's because Atsumu is sure, he's absolutely certain, that Sakusa isn't completely immune to said sex appeal.And it's not his ego speaking, or his wishful thinking.It all started with a lollipop, an unlucky — or lucky, depending on Atsumu's mood — poor little lollipop that got crushed two weeks ago by the same jaw that is currently clenched in obvious searing anger in front of him.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: Until your lips taste like mine. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995118
Comments: 22
Kudos: 475
Collections: my babies, ♧SakuAtsu Fics♧





	Bite me, then.

_Atsumu sucks on a lollipop here and then, getting into the locker room with his mouth stuffed with one, unwrapping one whenever they're about to get on the bus, making them last eternally long without noticing it drives one man crazy. He offers some to his teammates, happily shares with Hinata, calls it fair when Bokuto laughs that he is a child, doesn't think much of it when Sakusa looks at him as if he's grown a second (disgusting) head._

_He just won't stop because it's fun, and it's sweet, and well, everyone agrees as long as he's sucking on a candy, he's pretty quiet. He does get called out here and then when he gets carried away absentmindedly and works that insane tongue on the poor treat and everyone complains that if he could put as much training in his other muscles as he does in his tongue, they'd win tournaments and leagues easily season after season._

_He always answers by sticking said tongue out in provocation and that day was the same as everyday when he dropped in his seat on the bus._

_Atsumu drops like a dead weight, actually, slurping his tongue back after nagging Tomas and Inunaki and Sakusa is the unfortunate soul he ends up sitting next to._

_They ride the bus next to each other often, they do, because they do get along pretty well in their weird way. But that day, especially that moment, Atsumu will remember it more vividly than any other times he ever sat down next to his laziest spiker._

_That day is the day Sakusa can't take it anymore._

_Atsumu barely has the time to drop in his seat and bring the fresh lollipop he just got out of the wrapper and that got him a commotion that Sakusa releases his death-strong grip on the header before him and leans into Atsumu's space to snatch the treat away._

Crack! 

_The hardened piece of sugar snaps under Sakusa's teeth in a terrifying and loud noise that covers Atsumu's gulping sound for anyone who happens to be around. Not to Sakusa who glares at him darkly, lollipop stick poking out of the corner of lips._

_"Sit back," he then drawls, popping the treat out of his mouth._

_Atsumu's eyes follow: the thing is destroyed, missing the most part. Then his eyes trail back to his teammate's face and he flinches when Sakusa loudly bites into the remnants of the candy that Atsumu knows are in there._

_"And be quiet for the rest of the ride. If you pull any other lollipop, damn, if you bite on your pen cap while we're stuck in there, I'm poking this in your eye, Miya," Sakusa says, leveling the lollipop stick with the Atsumu's eyes._

_Atsumu behaves, watching in fascination as the last piece of treat disappears back in Sakusa's mouth, his own hanging slightly open._

_It'll take him two weeks to piece things out, to recognize the signs and to call Sakusa's sexual frustration something else than a tantrum._

_Two weeks during which he won't be able to suck on a lollipop without his face heating up desperately. Two weeks after which Sakusa will find himself cornered..._

Atsumu has a thing for theatrics but he has to admit slamming his hand next to Sakusa's head on a pile of mats wasn't his best moment. That thing would have been better in the lockers, on a metallic door that would have rattled hard and loud. 

Both ways, he does get his teammate's attention. Atsumu just wished it wasn't while his fist lamely sinks in between layers of puffy plastic which makes him lean forward in an awkward way instead of the menacing, sexy aura he was going for. 

"Back off, Miya," Sakusa deadpans, naturally. 

He would have done the same in the locker room, and… Well, now that he is glaring at him, Atsumu thinks the mats were an unfortunate but smart move because if Sakusa bashes his head in in the following seconds — which doesn't seem to be an unlikely scenario seeing how Atsumu struggles to push himself off of his teammate and Sakusa is losing patience — at least the impact will be sluggish instead of giving him the concussion of—

Oh damn, he looks downright murderous. 

"I'm trying, I'm trying," Atsumu whines lamely, finally pushing himself back upright. 

And there goes the last shreds of menacing aura, any remaining bits of his sex appeal… 

It's clearly infuriating, because if they got there in the first place, it's because Atsumu is sure, he's absolutely certain, that Sakusa isn't completely immune to said sex appeal. 

And it's not his ego speaking, or his wishful thinking. Could've been, since Atsumu is honest with his own feelings — as disturbing as they may be — contrary to a certain someone. 

No, that assumption is based on two weeks of intent watching and over-analyzing every little detail. 

It all started with a lollipop, an unlucky — or lucky, depending on Atsumu's mood — poor little lollipop that got crushed two weeks ago by the same jaw that is currently clenched in obvious searing anger. And since then, Atsumu's mind travelled places.

Oh, Sakusa isn't happy with this predicament. 

Well, that makes two of them, then. 

The mats keep deflating where Atsumu's hand imprint is still clear, hissing ever so low but defeating all the same in the silence of the storage room. He doesn’t know what he was imagining coming here today… Nothing, actually. Atsumu’s been wanting to confront Sakusa for a couple of days now, but if he’s honest, it was never supposed to happen on a whim after seeing his teammate isolate himself in the darkest, stuffiest and least clean room of the gymnasium.

But Atsumu is only a man, and he’s known for many things: patience clearly isn’t one. He’s not known for being head over heels for Sakusa, either, though. And he didn’t even know it himself until recently, but here they are, Atsumu rushing after Black Jackal number fifteen Kiyoomi Sakusa in a dark room after he pushed Atsumu to his limits without even knowing it.

At least, Atsumu is pretty sure he’s not the only one to be a little more than _thirsty._

It happened _again_ at the end of practice today. Atsumu pulled the drinking spout of his sports bottle with his teeth, like he always does, and downed half the content of the gourd in one go. A pretty common routine after an intense serves drill.

What was less common is Sakusa staring at him from the opposite side of the bench, looking properly horrified when Atsumu lowered the bottle away from his face to wipe at his lips and chin with the back of his hand.

Even less common was the intense blush that crept up Sakusa's face the second he realized both that he was staring _and_ that Atsumu had noticed. And clearly not ordinary was the fact that Sakusa wet his own lips, dragging his tongue slowly across them, in a helpless, clearly unplanned thirsty little reaction.

Both men stayed a few — impossibly long — more seconds looking at each other, dumbstruck, Atsumu realizing, totally hopeless, that his throat had dried up on the spot yet again. 

Sakusa was the first one to storm away, just not for the first _time_ in the last two weeks.

It took a moment for Atsumu to understand what was happening, until the moment he pulled a lollipop out of his duffle bag on his way out of the lockers one day after the bus _incident._ He hadn’t been able to taste one properly since the day Sakusa had literally snatched his treat from his mouth and bit it off like a savage, for _reasons_.

Atsumu had tried, but he didn’t like his face growing hot every time he was pulling off the wrapper, and disliked even more — knowing to whom he owed the reaction — getting hot and bothered by the sheer idea of sucking on an innocent lollipop.

The icing on the cake had to be the terrible evening Atsumu had ended up with a hand down his pair of shorts on his couch, getting off with a lollipop hanging from his lips and a pair of dark angry eyes printed behind his eyelids.

He had thought, then, that he was fucked — and not in the way he intended it —, completely doomed and that despair was going to be the only path he was going to be able to walk… Miserably sucking on sugary treats to trigger a shameful pavlovian reflex that was going to be as close as he’d ever get to relive that moment.

Oh, Atsumu had thought he was doomed… until the moment he had pulled out that unfortunate lollipop on his way out, and had stumbled upon his teammate in the empty hallway.

Even now, as he’s almost pressed against Sakusa, boxing him against a pile of gym mats, Atsumu has a hard time remembering any moment in his whole life that has been charged with as much electricity and sexual tension as it was in that hallway.

He knows, again, that he wasn’t just imagining it, the way Sakusa looked at the untouched lollipop as if it was both a lethal weapon _and_ the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Atsumu is certain he didn’t imagine the gulping sound coming from him, and he’s clearly seen with his own two eyes the other man biting his lips in a hotter way than he could ever in any of the Atsumu’s late fantasies.

There’s also the way he clicked his tongue before stomping past him and almost unhinging the locker room’s door when Sakusa shut himself in…

At some point, Atsumu did dig on the misophonia side. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Sakusa just couldn’t stand munching — well, _licking,_ — sounds. 

It just… didn’t add up. None of the time Sakusa lost it had Atsumu making any sound, or when he did, it was covered by the loud atmosphere of the court, or the lockers’ lively ambiance… The only one, again, who munched on something in the other’s ear was Sakusa when he destroyed that lollipop in Atsumu’s face and with it, the last hope Atsumu had to live a normal, happy life.

“I’m serious, Miya, back off,” Sakusa repeats through gritted teeth.

He looks like he’s trying to merge with the mats now, something Atsumu hadn’t noticed, all lost in his thoughts.

Well, even though he’s pretty sure Sakusa has the same problem as he does, Atsumu knows he's really not into unconsented physical contact. He’s seen the guy perform some level of back arching that would make any hissing cat jealous, just to get away from friendly guys like Bokuto or Hinata, so he’s fairly certain being cornered in a filthy place by the guy with whom he’s had a billion passive aggressive stare downs over the last couple weeks isn’t enjoyable.

Out with it, then. 

"Hear me out first, Omi-kun" Atsumu blurts out, although he does take a step back to give more space to the other man. 

He makes sure to do so with his back to the door, so Sakusa's escape route is cut momentarily. 

He's respectful of his boundaries but also very stubborn, and these two things can coexist. Hopefully with the outcome Atsumu has been dreaming of. 

Sakusa's murderous glare and defensive stance don't make Atsumu too optimistic, but you never know. 

“I don’t think I will,” Sakusa bluntly answers, eyes predictably shifting past his teammate’s shoulder toward the closed double doors.

“I think you need to,” Atsumu insists, arms literally twitching at his sides from the need to pin Sakusa both to be heard and… for more questionable reasons.

 _Get a grip!_ he orders himself for the millionth time.

The other man takes a long, deep breath, before his gaze shifts back to Atsumu. His expression isn’t easy to decipher, especially in the dark, but Atsumu thinks he sees something else under the urgency and the anger.

“No, I know I don’t need to and I _better_ not hear you out,” Sakusa finally says, and Atsumu feels a tinge of victorious excitation tickle his belly.

He doesn’t show it, but there it is, the slight despair in Sakusa’s voice, the hint that he knows why he’s here and how it’s going to be his downfall. Atsumu wants to tell him that it’s okay, he fell too. And past the violent rush downstairs that comes with the terrifying realization, it’s not so bad to come to terms with wanting to corner your teammate in the showers after practice, or anywhere for that matter. It’s only so bad if you know you’ll be frustrated for the rest of your life.

Sakusa’s every reaction and even this one now? It makes Atsumu believe there’s a chance he won’t be. But they have some team effort to produce before they get there, because Sakusa is still locked into the most unapproachable mode possible.

It’s fine with Atsumu. He’s not surprised and, for a second, he can forget the way his face grows hot, or his heart races in his chest, the slight discomfort in his shorts where Atsumu _knows_ something will inevitably happen if he stays close to his teammate like this. He forgets all of this and gets crushed under the impossible need to appease the other man. 

More than anyone on the team, on any team Atsumu has ever been part of, Sakusa is quick to trigger Atsumu’s urge to support and sooth people, to make them feel good and to brush their insecurities away. Bokuto does that to him a lot too, but not for the same reasons. Not for intimate ones.

Bokuto triggers him to want to cheer him up and have him hit his best tosses, into making him believe — not just for pretense — that, indeed, he’s one of the best spikers in Japan and that he should act on it even when he’s scared to feel defeated.

Sakusa… Sakusa makes Atsumu want to talk him down from every little panic, from any surge of insecurity. It’s always been like this, no matter how much they bicker and how Atsumu likes to banter and make fun of him, he’s always taken Sakusa seriously. He’s always wanted to make him feel like he fits in despite the antics, despite the legit concerns, despite everything that makes Sakusa different.

It was like that before Atsumu realized he couldn’t eat a lollipop without thinking about a million sinful outcomes related to the opposite hitter, and he’s somehow relieved to find out it’s still the case even when his brain is clouded with horny thoughts.

Accordingly, Atsumu shifts his weight back, not taking a step away again, but increasing the distance between them more as if to show the other than he can trust him. Sakusa’s shoulders are stiff still, but he notices the minute change in his posture and how they drop slightly. How they definitely sag when he opens his stupid mouth to say something genuine and comforting next:

“Omi, it’s _fine,_ I promise.”

It’s not like Atsumu just solved it all, clearly he’s miles away from sorting this mess out, but Sakusa seems to remember too that he’s never not safe around Atsumu, no matter how persistent they are to be at each other’s throats.

“It’s not _fine,_ Miya,” Sakusa growls on the defensive. 

He tucks his fists in the pockets of his open jacket, pulling the lower front parts inward in an attempt to cover his body. Miles away, still.

“Well, just chill out for a bit and I promise it will be. Damn, Omi-kun! You shoved me into a wall, yesterday,” Atsumu reminds him, doing his best not to eye the patch of skin that’s now showing at the base of Sakusa’s throat where his tee-shirt is sliding down. “If you don’t, trust me, I’m not the only one who’s gonna bring it up.”

Oh yes, another hint that Sakusa is as deep into this hellhole as he is. And this time, just because Atsumu dared uncapping a marker pen with his teeth to pass it over to Barnes. Sakusa just snapped a pretty violent “germs, Miya!” that startled everyone before Atsumu mimicked him and the next thing he knew, Sakusa was elbowing him in the side hard enough for him to stumble back into the wall behind.

All the while staring at Atsumu’s lips with an expression of utter betrayal the setter couldn’t have placed if they haven’t had been in this situation for days.

“There’s nothing to bring up!”

“Isn’t there, now? So you’re okay with Bokkun asking me what’s up with you and telling his precious kohai they might have to dig into this? Because that's what he did. They’re no Sherlock these two, but if they poke their noses into it—”

“There’s _nothing_ to bring up!” Sakusa snaps again, abruptly taking a step forward.

Atsumu wonders if he’s trying to prove himself something by doing so, once his brain unfreezes. It’s obvious whatever it is, Sakusa failed because he’s now stuck with his nose mere millimeters away from Atsumu’s and it’s clearly hell for him.

The air between them is impossibly hot. No one mentions the potential lethal germs that pass back and forth as they breathe a little erratically into the same tight space.

“Alright. I just wanted you to know that if there _was_ anything to bring up, you’d rather have it by someone who actually doesn’t have a problem with you acting all weird and who—”

“I don’t—” Sakusa starts interrupting him again, but this time Atsumu’s eyes rolling hard are enough to shut him up on the spot.

“Even _you_ can’t lie to yourself that blatantly, Omi-kun, can you? I mean I get you denying the truth because you might not like it, but that’s embarrassing at this point!”

“You’re embarrassing,” Sakusa spits, averting his gaze and leaning back against the mats in a soft thud.

At least now he’s not baring his teeth any longer, although Atsumu regrets the proximity more than he’s willing to admit. Way more…

“And guess what, I’m fucking embarrassed too, but at least I don’t pretend nothing’s up!” Atsumu goes on, feeling bolder now that Sakusa doesn’t seem like he might murder him to rush to the door.

It’s true, after all. Atsumu is mortified, and he really acted on an impulse today because there’s only so much he can take. Looking back, and especially if the outcome isn’t going his way, Atsumu is mortified. What if there’s still a chance he read it all wrong? What if Sakusa is just fed up with him as a whole and all these little signs are the telltale show he can’t even stand his presence anymore?

Every time Sakusa acts up and Atsumu has another confirmation the sexual tension between them is going through the roof, it goes along with a meltdown of insecurities and doubts. It’s not like he didn’t spend twenty and more years of his life hearing his own twin calling him a pretentious dickhead.

What if he’s too full of himself?

And if he is, why does Sakusa sucks in his breath and tenses all over again when Atsumu tentatively takes a step forward…

It’s all so confusing and torturing him, but he can’t be that oblivious or that blinded by his ego. Sakusa is severely affected by whatever Atsumu does and Atsumu will spend the rest of his life wondering how such a beautiful, gorgeous person can get wired up by him biting into a pencap but he _is._

And same gorgeous person — with his shitty personality and being into another dude with a personality as disastrous — clearly wants to be in denial, and that’s fine. Atsumu can work with that. But he needs a little help here, or he’ll go mad and do way worse to embarrass himself than corner Sakusa in a dark room where no one can see them.

“This is ridiculous!” Sakusa scoffs, yet Atsumu can hear it again, the underlying tinge of despair.

Oh, he wants to close his eyes so bad and it shows.

Atsumu opens his mouth again, ready to agree that it is all, indeed, ridiculous. That they could make out on the spot and it would be a ton less ridiculous than the current situation they’re in. And that would be _insane._ Atsumu can’t wrap his head around it, even.

Still, less ridiculous than not admitting it.

But although it could be less stupid, never challenge fate into upgrading the situation, as Atsumu finds out in the next seconds.

His mouth is left hanging open when Bokuto’s voice echoes on the walls behind the doors, loud and excited.

“Come, Hinata. We’re dropping the bucket and mop and then we’re off on our secret mission!” 

It happens so fast, Atsumu only realizes way too late to savor it, but his temple gets knocked against Sakusa’s jaw as he’s whisked away.

Sakusa’s firm grip on the front of his jersey pulls him around the pile of mats, hiding them behind the giant stack, just as the doors swing open and Hinata’s cheerful voice rings to their ears: “Atsumu-san went to the showers according to Meian-san!”

Something clatters on the floor. Probably the bucket. Or Atsumu’s jaw. The latter being covered by the first, at least, and the two loud mouths on the other side of the island of mats deafening each other enough to not notice the jack-hammering sound of Atsumu’s heart trying to punch its way out of his ribcage.

He’s plastered against Sakusa, really _plastered_ this time, because he couldn’t find his footing — him of all people, whom everyone praises for his light steps on the court — and stumbled right into Sakusa’s chest when he manhandled Atsumu in that tiny, narrow space.

“Let’s wait for him outside then!” Bokuto clasps his hands as his voice seems further already.

“Should we lock the storage room?” Hinata asks.

Thank god it’s loud too, because Sakusa sucks in his breath so hard at the implied risk of them being locked in there that he almost whimpers.

His fist locked in Atsumu’s jersey turns into a vice, the fabric straining against his skin, right between them.

“I forgot the key, we don’t have time anyway,” Bokuto explains and the door slides shut.

But Atsumu can’t bring himself to feel relieved. 

He’s never been so riled up and his whole body is about to combust. Sakusa’s steel-grip on him made him press his whole body into him and his brain needs a full reboot.

There’s something poking his thigh. Something poking Atsumu’s thigh, thick and hard and…

Oh god.

“I—yeah! R—right,” Atsumu suddenly whispers in a high-pitched voice that he’s trying to keep under his breath while panicking entirely. “Nothing’s _up_ , right?!” Atsumu says, his throat dry as hell, as he jumps back faster than if he’d burned himself.

He wished so bad he could stay against Sakusa instead. Damn, he wished he could just grind down on him like a shameless whor— Atsumu is so ashamed. But clearly, if he stays pressed against Sakusa even without moving now that he’s been found out… Sakusa might reach for the nearest blunt object. He has a motive already, Atsumu would rather not spur him on and have him act on it.

He has a long life to live ahead of him, many tournaments to win. Damn, the setter has yet to make it to the Olympics! 

And instead of training hard, here he is, stuck in between a wall and the most gorgeous man in the universe — one he’d love to ravish or let ravish him — with a tent in his shorts and a matching boner in Sakusa’s. 

He’s going to become insane. He is.

There’s only one thing Sakusa can do, now that Atsumu has seen right through him and got the evidence he needed, and he can’t see it not being ugly and sad.

That’s why he feels like he’s been slapped when Sakusa, although adorning a murderous look, sags and hides his face in his hands, whispering so low Atsumu almost misses it under the white noise that’s deafening him.

“Shut up, please, please, Miya, shut up! I don’t know what you want from me but keep that filthy, despicable, impossible mouth shut or I’ll…”

Whatever the threat is, it never comes. Sakusa seems to be at the end of his rope, either out of mortification or too much frustration. Atsumu has been there, wanting the floor to open up under your feet and swallow you when you get hard looking at your teammate. And he was lucky to be alone when it happened. 

He doesn’t want to be merciless on him too. He only wants Sakusa to stop being crushed by his pent-up frustration, — and it’ll cure his own predicament too, now he’s _certain_ of it — Atsumu really does want to show him it’s _fine._

But damn, if he’s exasperated too! And he can’t hold it in anymore, not with his dick pumping half the blood in his body away from his brain and, further away from his patience.

“What _I want from you?_ ” Atsumu kind of explodes, although he keeps it low and it ends up being a weird emphazed whisper that would be comical in another situation. “You for real? Omi? _Kiyoomi!”_

The opposite hitter kind of shrinks before he forces himself to straighten his back, glaring back because there’s no way Atsumu is talking him down, or something along the stupid lines. Well, Atsumu will at least drag him down from the high horses he’s stuck on and right in that filthy storage room. He’s had enough.

“You think I dragged you in here for what in the first place? Tease you?” 

Sakusa has the guts to snipe him the most pointed glare. Atsumu’s hand clenches over his heart at the betrayal. Remember, theatrics. 

“Hey, it’s not fair!” he almost forgets to whisper. “It’s not—that’s sick! I would not do that, not when it’s about… _Fuck!_ I’ve had enough of tip-toeing around that shit!”

Sakusa kind of said _to hell with personal space_ when he got them stuck in a narrow path just wide enough for them both to fit without touching so Atsumu gets bold and risks the extra metaphorical step by shoving an offensive finger into the other man’s solar plexus.

Not the kind of contact he craves immediately, yet it’s enough for Atsumu to feel his muscles clench around his midsection. It also fuels him desperately and even if he wanted to, he can’t hold back the next words. Atsumu can’t swallow them back, they’re out there before he knows it. 

“I would not fucking tease you about being attracted to me! Even less when I want you to fuck my brain’s out! There I said it!”

And the floor still doesn’t open up to swallow either of them. So, now they’re here, stuck, in heat like two horny bastards, and there’s no pretending anymore. Even Sakusa couldn’t.

Atsumu’s heart pulses in his throat sickeningly. 

Sakusa suddenly raises a hand, claws out and ready to lash out, and for a fleeting passing second Atsumu is relieved they’re trapped because his teammate can’t really prepare for a nasty punch without momentum. He might just get slapped across the face and reflect on all the bad and spontaneous decisions that led him there.

Atsumu wants to close his eyes too, but the hand is already going down and he can’t do much but slide on the floor across the last centimeters that separate him from the wall behind. 

He doesn’t get slapped across the face, but the air does get punched out of his lungs as Sakusa grabs Atsumu by the collar and pins him against it.

That’s shocking enough as it is, and makes his eyes go wide. So wide that despite the darkness it’s impossible for Atsumu to miss any detail of what follows: namely Sakusa pressing against him and claiming his lips into a demanding, hungry kiss.

A bit like when he went to terminate that lollipop, there’s nothing Atsumu can do but _witness_ except he’s the one getting picked apart this time. Although, instead of staring in fascination, after his mind stops blanking out… he can actually let himself get washed over by the crazy rush of adrenaline and relief that’s submerging him and return it. And return the kiss, he does, with as much fervor if not more than he did in any little day-dream he’s had since that day on the bus.

It almost doesn’t feel real, actually, because there’s no way Sakusa — even knowing he’s attracted to Atsumu — is actually kissing him right now, is there?

Well, kissing is one way to put it. Sakusa devoured that lollipop, and he’s doing the same to Atsumu now, and just like he did back then when Sakusa sealed his fate, he’s sure to be sharp about it, throwing teeth in.

Atsumu hears himself moan shamelessly at the first bite, hands flying up to tangle in Sakusa’s hair but he knows better. Instead he throws them against the mats, not blushing from how hard he slams them this time, kneading the material to prevent himself from touching the man he’s seen slap many hands away for far more innocent touches.

Somehow, it reverses the dynamic a little, or so Atsumu thinks. When they fall back against the pile of mats, it’s Sakusa who drags him against his body, fists secured in the stretching fabric of his jersey. They’re being sloppy, and Atsumu can’t get enough of it.

He's out of breath, feeling slightly drunk and dizzy enough to dare bucking his hips into Sakusa’s. 

He’s not the one whose mouth is ripped by a moan this time. Sadly the most beautiful music to his ears also puts an abrupt stop to the hottest kiss Atsumu ever tasted in his whole life.

Sakusa looks ravished when they part away, but Atsumu knows he must look worse. He _feels_ worse, entirely wrecked. His knees are weak, his heart might be going at an alarming pace, it’s still not enough to supply both his brain and dick with enough blood at the same time and Sakusa won’t stop looking at him with blown wide pupils and that feverish look. _Shit_.

They’re at the same level for once, and Atsumu can’t help but notice that Sakusa slid a little on the floor from the action, giving up on the few centimeters that he uses to look down on Atsumu usually.

He can’t even bring himself to open his mouth to tease him about it, though. He’s too busy processing. Sakusa just kissed him. A real, sexy as fuck, entire kiss that wouldn’t make it in a romcom because it’s too filthy for it.

It’s too beautiful to be true, really, there’s no way—

“I told you to keep that filthy mouth shut, Miya,” Sakusa cuts Atsumu’s train of thoughts.

He’s already bringing a hand to his face to wipe it across his own now-filthy mouth and instead of deterring Atsumu, the vision of his chin slightly wet with saliva makes him shiver. Oh god, the things he wants that mouth to do now…

He really has to get it together though, because if Atsumu stays silent a second more, he knows there’s a chance Sakusa will shove his walking corpse away and flee the crime scene.

Atsumu won’t be brain-dead. He’s cooler than that, it’s just a _kiss._ A kiss that made him want to reenact all the last scenarios his stupid brain came up with every time he unwrapped a lollipop lately.

He clears his throat, not surprised it sounds hoarse, and hands still gripping the mats on either side of Sakusa’s head, he finds the confidence to smirk like a proud little prick.

“Yeah? And you just robbed me of the cool “ _make me_ ” line!” Atsumu says, not really bothering with a filter now.

Sakusa _kissed_ him, even when he’s being the biggest moron in the universe, it’s still a win. And he was right. 

“Get down from your little fantasy,” Sakusa snaps, not as heatedly as Atsumu would have expected. “You’re not _cool,_ you’re a twenty-four years old who sucks on lollipops.”

_Ouch._

Atsumu wants to wince but he’s too obsessed with the way Sakusa’s chest is heaving up and down as he tries to even his breathing. Who’s trying to act all cool when he's all affected by a little kiss, now!

“And look where that led you,” Atsumu smirks.

Sakusa’s eyes shift at the speed of light off Atsumu’s face to where their hips are barely brushing now before coming back to his face and narrowing into slits. 

This is… better than the best outcome Atsumu could have ever imagined. Sakusa isn’t making any move to try and get away from him and now he’s worrying at his lips?

Atsumu’s heart might need a check up when he gets out of here for how often it’s been leaping in his chest in such a short span of time. But it’s fine with him, he can even go like this, he’ll be content.

“You think you’re in a position to say that?” Sakusa comments, holding his chin high up, aching an eyebrow in disdain.

Atsumu wants to tell him not to bother. He has a better plan, though.

“No,” he just huffs out with an apologetic grin, and the adrenaline that thrums through his veins helps him drop on the floor as he adds: “but now I might.”

There’s not enough space to comfortably drop on his knees with Sakusa not standing entirely straight, so Atsumu has to crouch with his legs wide open instead.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing, Miya!” Sakusa snaps, not pretending to keep his voice low anymore.

He does try to merge with the pile of mats behind him again but Atsumu doesn’t drop on his knees with the room it makes for him. He doesn’t want to be _too_ bold and scare the man away.

Instead he just looks up with a cocky grin — more a façade than the proof he’s actually feeling _that_ confident, but Sakusa doesn’t need to know that.

“I don’t know. I guess what any sane twenty-four years old dude with a fixation on lollipops would do when the hottest guy on his team admits he’s got the hots for him?”

“I didn’t admit to—”

“Hey, Omi, told ya. It’s _fine._ I have plenty stored in my locker to comfort myself. If you don’t want me to, just say the word and I’ll be gone.”

It’s a terrible gamble Atsumu just placed here but he would not have it any other way.

Sakusa might have stolen his candy first, he might have cornered him there to kiss the air out of him first… Atsumu is still going to make sure he’s not lonely in his little dream scenario and imposing anything on his teammate.

He hopes he isn’t. And he more than hopes that Sakusa is going to give him the green light and stop being a stubborn asshole because Atsumu might explode in his pants if he leaves him hanging there.

Damn, he’s never wanted to suck a cock in his life so badly, and Atsumu has had gay fantasies since he was a horny teenager. 

“If you ever eat a fucking lollipop under my nose again, I’m finding a way to choke you with it,” Sakusa tells him, looking down at the other without a clear answer.

He’s not going anywhere, not even shifting away from Atsumu. Actually he brings his hands down, gripping at the edge of one of the mats that sticks out of the pile more than the others.

It’s great, but it’s not enough.

“Omi-kun, I need a straight answer and “ _I’ll commit murder on you with a candy bar_ ” doesn’t exactly mean _yes_ or _no._ ”

Sakusa’s hands dig in the mat, the material squeaking under his fingers. Atsumu bites his lips, his throat closing up. 

“We just got out of practice,” Sakusa groans, a miles away from the adamant rebuttal Atsumu was expecting.

Had it been anyone else, Atsumu would have scoffed it off, but Sakusa isn’t bringing this up only to save himself some time or find a poor excuse. He dares bringing a hand up, tapping lightly the inside of Sakusa’s knee with the tip of his index finger.

“I know, Kiyoomi. That’s why I’m telling you I can still back the hell off and get sugar-high to forget that anything happened. But if it’s about me and if I might not want it because you ran a few laps around the court, I think I made it pretty clear I don’t give a flying f—”

“Miya,” Sakusa breathes out with urgency, parting his knee to the side.

Atsumu follows with his finger, so stupidly grateful to see it’s not to get away from his touch but to give him a little more space.

“Yeah?”

“That’s how pretty clear _I_ can get before I decide to kill us both from sheer embarrassment,” Sakusa says, throwing his head back to look at the dark ceiling.

Atsumu wants to cry from happiness. He won’t. He might be addicted to lollipops but he’s not a virgin emotional maiden.

He wants to tell Sakusa that it’s okay, that he pieced it together anyway, else they wouldn’t be there, but it feels lame…

And then Atsumu remembers there’s nothing lame about letting Sakusa know he has his back, no matter how good they are at roasting each other.

“Leave it to me, then,” he breathes out, not believing it’s happening for good when he brings his hands up to hook them in Sakusa’s waistband.

“Miya, wait!” he’s stopped the moment Atsumu starts pulling on the fabric tentatively.

He immediately freezes, snatching his hands away from Sakusa and folding them into his lap trying not to whine in despair. It was too good to be true. And now he has to put on a brave face and jerk himself off while crying like a baby in the shower, that’s so unf—

“Can I call you by your first name?”

Atsumu’s whole body is wrecked by an intense shiver, his jaw dropping.

“If you can call me by—” Atsumu has such a hard time not stuttering the words he shuts his mouth, looking up in a daze. 

Sakusa finally looks down, a perfect painting that’s a sweet and hot as hell mix of fierceness and timidity and Atsumu thinks he loses it right here and there. And not just momentarily. Atsumu knows he’s a lost case from this point on.

He’ll think about it for ages, _forever._

He doesn’t remember nodding, just that his fingers fly to Sakusa’s shorts again and he pulls them down as gently as possible when all Atsumu wants is to go on autopilot and act like the savage Sakusa just turned him into.

He’s not being reasonable one second, they don’t even have a condom but that thought hits Atsumu when he’s already mouthing Sakusa through his boxers. It barely brushes the back of his mind and just when he decides to be stupid all the way through and get rid of the last piece of fabric between them, Sakusa’s knees buckle and he steadies himself by getting a fistful of bleached hair to push Atsumu’s face away from his cock.

“I got tested recently,” he stammers awkwardly. “Just thought you might want to know before— I, oh god...”

Atsumu wants to say it sounds like something Sakusa would do, and he actually is fond of that, but there are three reasons that prevent him from doing so. One is that Sakusa might misinterpret it as a taunt, which Atsumu doesn’t want to risk. The second is that he’s too stunned by his own eagerness and hence stupidity to bring himself to speak. Three comes right after, when the shame gets washed away by one remaining fact: he can go all out. And he does.

Atsumu is not even embarrassed when he tugs on the boxers too fast and Sakusa’s hard cock, just released from the tight hold, kind of slaps him in the face. It’s not that violent, but absolutely filthy and Atsumu has to shift on his knees to avoid feeling too constricted in his own underwear.

Sakusa swears somewhere above him but Atsumu realizes it’s muffled and when his eyes shift back up, he sees Sakusa’s free hand is pressed over his mouth, the other still holding onto his hair for dear life.

There’s another curse when Atsumu’s lips press against the tip of his cock before barely opening and easing him into his mouth fast. His lips stretch over him without much of a problem, but even Atsumu has to admit the size is straining. He closes his eyes, breathing through the nose, reveling in the overwhelming feeling.

He doesn’t feel grateful anymore, he just knows he’s the luckiest bastard on this planet and Atsumu will make the best of it.

Atsumu never gagged on a cock before, never enthusiastic enough to even bother, and now he’s wondering when it might happen and if it will be soon enough. Then he refrains, a few centimeters away from trying to take all of Sakusa’s cock in one go, because he has a flash of uncertainty. Sakusa might hate it.

What if he’s disgusted? 

Atsumu pulls back, hollowing his cheeks all the way to the tip and the way Sakusa’s thighs tremble under his hands have him believe he might not be _that_ disgusted.

He can always try, he really wants to. Fuck, he wants to _feel_ Sakusa _everywhere._

Atsumu relaxes his jaw, something he’s so good at, and picks up the pace, going back and forth and a little further each time, getting drunk on the sensation that goes with Sakusa’s cock filling up inside his mouth, getting heavier on his tongue, making it more and more difficult to twist it around the length.

It’s never going to fit, is it? 

Before he knows it, there are tears gathering at the corners of Atsumu’s eyes and his knees are numb from bearing all his weight on the cold hard ground.

Who cares? Atsumu isn’t satiated. He craves _more._ And as if on cue, just when he’s past caring about Sakusa possibly getting disgusted, the hand in his hair moves, guiding him forward.

Atsumu barely has time to understand Sakusa is thrusting his hips and fucking his mouth — which is the hottest thing he’s ever done — that the tip of his cock hits the back of Atsumu's throat and he chokes.

Sakusa pushes him back as fast as he dragged him over his cock, letting Atsumu cough and spit and wipe his mouth as he winces, dropping on his heels. Well, now he knows: it _fits._ Atsumu was just taken by surprise a little, but just as he starts grinning like a madman, ready to go again despite his shoulders still shaking from the fit of coughing, Sakusa reaches down in a hurry.

“I’m sorry, oh my god! I’m sorry, Atsumu, I—”

Sakusa can’t even finish the sentence. Atsumu pushes himself back on knees, pinning the other man against the pile of mats, both hands wrapping and tightening around the narrow waist he’s been dreaming about for so long.

It fits so perfectly under his hands, Atsumu feels like he’s been blessed. Sakusa is just gorgeous, so terribly lethal in all his beauty, it’s not fair they’re in the dark, and it’s a whole mess Atsumu can't see entirely.

This time he doesn’t gag, he’s prepared. Sakusa really isn’t because he doubles over, fingers digging in his teammate’s shoulders a little painfully. Atsumu doesn’t care, he feels so full…

He wants more, all of it.

He would have thought by now that Sakusa would have made a few snarky comments, but they never come. Atsumu rendered Sakusa unable to be a sassy asshole and that’s even more of a victory. Getting the man’s cock down his throat was already huge, in all ways, but that’s the icing on the cake.

Atsumu will have time to be smug about it later, though. 

Right now, he’s never been so focused on sucking on something in his entire life. To say he’s dedicated is an understatement. He’ll never let the other man tell him to stop flapping his tongue without pointing back at this very instant and the way he’s leaving bruises along Atsumu's collar bones where his thumbs dig in.

“ _Atsumu_.”

His name again. He feels his cock twitch in his boxers from it and can’t help the sinful moan that wraps around Sakusa’s cock along with his tongue.

Something at the back of his mind, that’s way too clouded with his own pleasure to think through, tells him that Sakusa isn’t just trying the name out. That it sounds like a warning…

As if there’s anything to dread for Atsumu when all he begs for is for Sakusa to lose it entirely. The ever so composed, ethereal and mean bastard who can’t communicate for his life is already at his mercy, calling his name in the dark after getting all worked up for days.

Atsumu did this. 

He wouldn’t have thought one of the best days of his life would end up with him on the dirty floor, tears rolling down his cheeks as another guy fucks his throat like his life depended on it… both their lives, really, but Atsumu will never be mad about it.

It’s so good, even when he doesn’t get proper relief himself, even when all Atsumu does is giving, he's nothing be thrilled. Actually that might make it even better. He wants to give everything to Sakusa. It’s only fair when he’s asking of him to bare himself in front of Atsumu like he probably rarely does in front of anyone else.

Atsumu suddenly hopes, childishly, that he doesn’t do it in front of anyone else. 

“Atsumu, I’m coming— _Fuck,_ I—”

Atsumu doesn’t budge despite the vice grip tugging on his hair. He just clenches on Sakusa’s waist, hands digging there to make sure he’s not pushed away. 

Sakusa is quick to give up, hips stuttering before he pumps them into Atsumu’s face a couple more times, coming undone down his throat.

Atsumu can’t move, entranced by the sight above him, every little sound that escapes Sakusa’s mouth as he’s tripping over the edge and tries to do so as silently as possible. 

Atsumu firmly believes he could watch and listen to this on loop for the next few years and never get tired of it. Not that he’s being _dramatic,_ he’s simply just found out Sakusa is even more of a wonder than he thought he was and he can’t wrap his brain around it.

His thoughts get derailed a little when a spurt of hot cum lands on his tongue, filling his mouth so much he has to swallow on the spot, missing a bit and ending up with a trail of cum and saliva dripping at the corner of his lips when Sakusa pulls away.

It’s delightful.

Atsumu drops back down on his heels, wiping the trail with his thumb before licking it away without remorse. It’s a little bitter, and ten thousand times better than any stupid sweet treat he’s ever had.

Atsumu has to notice the more than uncomfortable strain in his shorts when he lands on the floor though, so he’s quick to get back on his feet — unsteady legs barely holding him after kneeling like that without knee pads.

“Why the hell did you swallow that,” Sakusa moans, face hidden into his palms where he’s trying to breath and get down from the high he’s riding.

“Well, you’re a biter, I swallow. Does his lordship have a problem with that?” Atsumu grins, leaning into him so he’s whispering into his ear.

Miscalculation. His hard cock brushes against Sakusa’s thigh.

“Oh god, you have to be disgusting about it through and through, don’t you?” Sakusa asks, just before realizing what’s poking him.

“I made it too good for you, someone needed to give you a reality check before you get out of here, don’t you thin—”

Sakusa shuts him up by slapping a hand across his mouth. The other immediately travels down between them, palming Atsumu through his shorts.

He whimpers behind his hand, body wrecked by another shudder.

“Keep talking shit and I’ll show you how much of a biter I am, Miya,” he says, mimicking the way Atsumu whispered into his ear as he lets go of his mouth.

Atsumu swallows hard.

“Back to using that name, uh?” he tries to go for mocking but sounds definitely wrecked.

“I don’t need to use your name for what I’m about to do, anyway,” Sakusa deadpans.

Damn, Atsumu missed him being an asshole. He’s definitely hopeless, a lost case, he—

 _Wait_ … What is Sakusa about to do?

He follows through with his words, and Atsumu catches him by the arms before he disappears under his line of sight. Wait a minute!

“No!” Atsumu almost shouts, eyes going wide.

“No?” Sakusa asks in total disbelief, sounding right out offended, and legitimately so.

“Shit,” Atsumu whimpers, letting go of Sakusa to hide his face in his hands.

He’s still so hard it prevents him from acting properly it seems, but it doesn’t prevent him from thinking about priorities.

“I can’t believe I told you no, ok? I don’t want to, but… Fuck! Omi, I don’t remember the last time I got tested. And I swear I’m sure everything's ok down there but, you know—I just—”

At this point he’s just rambling with shame, despair and self-hatred as only fuel but Sakusa drags him back from that hell hole by simply grabbing one of his wrists lightly to pry his hand away from his face.

“Oh, okay, I—Thank you.”

Atsumu wants to scream. At the top of his lungs. Instead he lets himself giggle like a mad man. He’s so weak, and so painfully hard. And he just cockblocked himself so hard.

Screaming wouldn’t cover it. But Sakusa’s lips turn into a light grin at the corner for just a second and… it’s worth it.

He couldn’t do this to Sakusa ever. He’s even pretty sure that just taking Atsumu’s words for it would not put him at ease and the last thing Atsumu wants is for his teammate to reciprocate out of obligation.

It sucks, but Atsumu wouldn’t have it any other way.

“For what? Not being a total scoundrel?”

“I would have called you an asshole, actually,” Sakusa says, not smiling anymore but it’s there, in his eyes. “Although I never thought you’d do something like that, so just… anyway. That’s considerate of— _Ugh_.”

“Yeah. That’s real awkward. I think I’ll just go and… I need a shower,” Atsumu throws his hands up, feeling as miserable as victorious, somehow.

Not the best feeling all in all, but he could be in a worse place right now, despite all the weird vibe their small talk can give.

He still won it all today, after all.

And when Sakusa follows him, adjusting his clothes in a sorry attempt at not looking like he just got the most mind-blowing blowjob of his life, adorable and grumpy as hell when it doesn’t work, Atsumu wants to kiss the life out of him again.

But he _did_ swallow, and he’s not sure Sakusa wants to do that again, anyway. 

He stops there, between the door and the his partner, unaware of the dumb smile playing on his lips until Sakusa throws his jacket at his face without a warning.

“Nasty toss!” Atsumu sputters, pushing the offending garment away from his face but gripping to it nonetheless. “What the fuck was that for?”

“You’re popping a very obvious boner. I can take my jacket back, but if you end up running into our very special Sherlocks, it’s going to be quite the circus, don’t you think?” Sakusa deadpans, crossing his arms over his chest.

Atsumu can tell he's enjoying this.

“Well, I can explain…” he starts.

“Do that and I’ll end your whole career,” the wing spiker offers with a pleasant smile so cold it should kill any hard-on.

It turns Atsumu on even more, instead. He might be done for...

“I’ll keep this then,” he shrugs innocently, keeping the garment folded in front of him conveniently as he prepares to take his leave.

He doesn’t make it to the door.

Sakusa drags him back by the collar, fierce and disheveled. Atsumu is _definitely_ done for.

“And Miya. Go get tested, or I’ll drag your sorry ass there myself.”

Atsumu’s heart does the most impressive backflip he’s done so far today, and it’s been going places since they got stuck in that room… He’ll play it off with a smug smirk, though, looking down on the hand curled in the front of his jersey with appreciation.

“Oh, is that a kinky promise Omi-kun?”

“It’s a threat against your life, dumbass,” Sakusa snaps, releasing him immediately to walk past him. 

“I’ll take it!” Atsumu says, already beyond thrilled at the implied horizons opening before him. 

Sakusa might want to have sex again. It’s happening. Sakusa is into him. Before Atsumu can even think about it, he blurts out:

“Say, Omi-kun, you’ll let me walk you back to the dorms after we get a shower?” Atsumu suddenly sucks in his breath, correcting himself immediately: “Separately, I mean, I didn’t intend to...”

The change of expression on Sakusa’s face as he turns on his heel to look at Atsumu is like a cold wave crashing down on him. Sakusa seems sorry. What for? Is he pitying him? Oh no, god, no...

“I—There’s somewhere I need to be tonight.”

“Oh.” 

Right, it’s only that. Atsumu shouldn’t panic! Why would he, actually! What was he even expecting? And why does he feel disappointed? It’s stupid! _Fuck,_ Atsumu can’t feel _disappointed,_ it was just a stupid blowjob.

He starts grinning again before he knows it, trying not to dwell on the strange void feeling growing rapidly in his chest.

“Sure! See ya tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah,” Sakusa breathes out, less confident than he looked minutes ago. “I want that jacket back.”

“Sure, the jacket. I’ve got you, Omi-omi,” Atsumu says as cheerfully as he gets, spinning on his feet to grab the doorknob. “See ya!”

He’s out of the room in a second, doors shutting back behind him and he doesn’t linger, rushing for the lockers and the shower without looking back.

Well, the positive thing now is that Atsumu only needs the shower to get rid of the filth, because the boner is no longer there, for sure. 

Atsumu slams his locker door a little too hard, unafraid to draw attention now. He just doesn’t get any, his teammates having seemingly vanished in the meantime. They did stay an awfully long time in the storage room, didn’t they…

It felt like a few short minutes, to Atsumu, and it’s already over, he laments, headbutting the metallic door miserably. He throws a lollipop in his mouth without remorse, like the twenty-four years old who just sucked on another man’s cock.

And when the sweet sugary treat lingers a little too long on his tongue...

_Crack!_

He bites into it furiously. 

Atsumu is so, so done for. 

**Author's Note:**

>  **EDIT** : You can now read part.2 [There's fire in my voice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27549187)
> 
> So... this started as a silly thread on twiter (the italics part) and I got carried away with my own kinks.
> 
> I'm not going to lie, I was lowkey thinking about writing Sakusa reciprocating. Not just because I think he'd look good on his knees... but I have to say it's really exciting to get into their heads and there might be more than just sex going on between them but I have NO IDEA if I even did this right, so... Let me know, ok? *-*
> 
> Anyway, I hope you will at least enjoy the filth ♥
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Deaddrabble)  
> Find me on [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/DeaddrabbleRobin)


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